


I Can't Help But Worry

by PolaroidCrow



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-31 23:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6491422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolaroidCrow/pseuds/PolaroidCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what he tried to think about to distract himself, the image of a lifeless Matt Murdock, having possibly died alone without anyone to have been there to be with him in his final moments, plagued his mind.</p>
<p>Or where Foggy finds Matt hurt again, and can't help but worry about his friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Help But Worry

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote ages ago back in october that I thought I should share. Although I guess I like how it came out, even if it is old.

Matt wouldn't look at Foggy, unfocused eyes looking down with a solemn gaze. Foggy simultaneously wanted to hug Matt with his perfected sad puppy looking face and clock him in the jaw with his fist. 

He decided on neither, considering them both to be rather unhelpful to his situation and instead sighed heavily and walked stiffly over to the still ajar door that lead to the inside of Matt’s apartment and closed it. It wouldn't be the best of circumstances to have the neighbors see Matt, still dressed as the Devil of Hell’s kitchen bleeding on the floor, Foggy thought quietly with disdain.  As he  had steadily gone closer to the door it didn’t go unnoticed by Foggy how Matt’s heavy, pain filled breaths quickened quietly, his maskless face scrunch up in a hurt and fearful way when Foggy put his hand on the doorknob.

Matt returned almost immediately to his previous pitiful state the moment he realized Foggy had only closed and locked the door. His light and soft sigh of relief making Foggy want to curse loudly at himself. He should have realized the parallels to the last time Foggy had found Matt badly hurt. Which ended sourly with an upset Foggy storming out of the building and a hurt and abandoned Matt. He remembered hearing Matt’s choked back sobs as Foggy angrily shut the door behind him. The remembrance of the memory making a sudden queasiness settle at the bottom of Foggy’s stomach.

 

He certainly didn't want a repetition of  _ that _ event.

 

Foggy shuffled a little unsteadily back to Matt and reached out a hand, waiting for the smaller man to take it. A few beats of silence passed by and Foggy mumbled something similar to an apology under his breath.

 

“I'm offering a hand in front of you to help-”

 

“I know,” Came Matt’s interrupting response. Foggy sighed heavily. Right, of course, so he  _ had _ seen it, or felt it or whatever the way his “World On Fire” worked. He should really ask for a more detailed explanation when things aren't so grim between them.

 

“Than why aren't you taking it?” 

 

“Because I'm not completely sure I  _ can _ sit up.” Foggy winced at the way Matt’s voice cracked halfway through and pulled back his hand. Okay, Maybe his wounds had been a lot worse than Foggy realized. Foggy scowled unhappily, weird vigilante guilt probably stopped Matt from voicing the truth of his condition.

 

“Want me to call Claire?” He tries to offer hopefully. She’d at least know how to handle this situation, unlike him. But to be completely honest, He highly doubts she'd even pick up. It was 3 am after all. Although, Foggy ponders, the Devil of Hell’s kitchen does do his vigilante duties at night so he supposes she's used to it by now. 

 

Somehow that thought doesn't reassure him in the slightest, and makes his stomach churn at the thought of  _ anyone _ being used to this type of stuff.

 

“No,” Matt paused, seemingly thinking it over before shaking his head in confirmation, “No, It's fine. Just help me get to bed and I'll call her in the morning.” Foggy pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed in annoyance.

 

“Mattie buddy, if it's too painful to even sit up then consulting someone in the medical field is probably your best choice since  _ somebody _ here doesn't like to use hospitals like a regular person,” Foggy began, sitting down next to Matt with a grunt. Matt’s only response was a frown, but otherwise stayed silent.

 

Foggy took that as his cue to continue.

 

“Besides, I don't want to go to sleep and wake up with you laying in bed dead from blood loss because of some strange injury you failed to inform me of.” Matt seemed to quiet down a bit after that. But after a couple of minutes of droning silence he tilted his head and looked woefully in Foggy’s general direction, and began speaking in a disturbingly quiet tone that didn't really fit the man at all.

 

“Okay, so I  _ might _ have been shot.”

 

“Matthew Murdock, you have got to be kidding me!” Foggy nearly yelled, raising his hands in exasperation. Matt grimaced at the raise in voice, but Foggy didn't feel all that sorry. In fact Foggy felt like punching his dick of a selfless friend in the face from his stupidity.

 

“I’m pretty sure it just passed through, Fog, it didn't hit anywhere important, I just have to do some stitches, sleep a lot and I’ll be okay.” Foggy decided to gloss over the fact that it vaguely sounded like Matt was trying to to reassure himself rather than Foggy. But, he eventually broke down and agreed to help Matt stitch up and wrap the wound in the bathroom, guiding him into the satin sheets of his bed when he noticed matt struggling to keep his eyes open as he sat leaning against the bathroom wall.

  
Foggy sat beside Matt in a chair he pulled up next to the bed, watching his friend’s unsteady breaths go from rigid to slow and even as he slipped into a calm sleep.  The night's events had been very tiring,  yet foggy found himself unable to sleep. He tapped at the edge of his chair absently with his fingers  and ran a hand down his face, sighing. No matter what he tried to think about to distract himself, the image of a lifeless Matt Murdock, having possibly died alone without anyone to have been there to be with him in his final moments, plagued his mind for the rest of the night.


End file.
